Six Bucks and Love
by SnowyPicture
Summary: Ronan, Adam, and Noah stop at a coffee shop.


A/N: A friend and I were having a discussion about what the gangsey would order at Starbucks.

* * *

 _Six Bucks and Love_

"Are you serious, Parrish?"

Adam looked up. He was waiting by the counter with the milk and sugar across from the cash registers where Ronan and Noah stood studying the drink menu. Only now, Ronan had his back to the cashier, arms crossed and brow furrowed dangerously as he stared at Adam. Noah, head bopping to the quiet tune that floated from the ceiling speakers overhead, looked around and blinked.

"What?" Adam said, trying to keep his voice from sounding defensive even though he knew it really made no use.

The employee behind the register, a boy who hadn't quite grown out of his baby face yet, tentatively peered around Ronan's shoulder. There was a line of people waiting, but he obviously wasn't the type of cashier who made his customers stand attention and move it along, and Ronan certainly wasn't the type of customer to hurry any faster because he might be inconveniencing anyone behind him. The young mother next in line eyed him warily and grasped her small son's arm; the glare Ronan was sending Adam wasn't doing anything to help his already imposing nature.

"Parrish," was all he said, and shoved his thumb over his shoulder at the cashier in a motion that obviously said, _you're up._

"I don't want anything," Adam said, and the plastic cup of water he held in his hand felt suddenly small as Ronan glanced down pointedly at it.

"It's a million fucking degrees outside, we stopped here for a reason," he said.

"I'm fine." Unlimited hydration was more important than an overpriced coffee drink that would turn out to be mostly cubes of ice, anyway. If they had _really_ wanted to be practical about their boiling venture out into the mountains today, they would have stopped and stocked up on water _._ Overpriced espresso only lasted so long, and he highly doubted it would make him feel any more awake.

Ronan glowered at him, and Adam kept his gaze steady. He knew Ronan wasn't stupid enough that he'd start a fight in the middle of a public place, not when it was over something as trivial as Adam opting to binge on the free water in a coffee shop instead of ordering something that would be worth an hour of work at the trailer factory.

Ronan glared at him for only a moment longer, then slid his gaze impassively to Noah and said, "What do you want?"

Noah's face lit up and they both turned back to the menu. As Noah pointed out his drink of choice, Adam felt his shoulders tighten and he wanted to shout, _he's a fucking ghost!_ But that would be less appropriate than Ronan picking a fight with him over a dumb coffee drink.

The flimsy plastic gave in beneath Adam's fingers as he watched Ronan hand a twenty dollar bill to the cashier boy, then carelessly stuff it into the pocket of his jeans, so ripped and torn it would have been worth cutting them at the knees and making them shorts, especially on such a hot day.

Adam refilled his little cup and hung back as Ronan and Noah waited for their drinks. When they came, Ronan, of course, got a large, monstrously sweet blend of ice and coffee and chocolate and twelve cups of sugar, probably, with enough whipped cream it poked out through the lid, and Noah got a small iced-

" _Macchiato,"_ he said in a hushed voice, perhaps enjoying the sound of it on his tongue. He held it up before his eyes and Adam's, watching, wide and fascinated, as the espresso and milk mixed in slow swirls.

Adam's gaze slid to Ronan, who sipped on his diabetes drink and raised a single eyebrow at him.

Adam rolled his eyes and led the way toward the doors. He downed the rest of his water and tossed the cup in the trash along the way. This had taken entirely too long. Blue and Gansey were probably already waiting for them.

The short walk to the car was enough to make them sweat, and Noah clamored into the back of the BMW as Adam slid into the passenger seat. Ronan set his drink in one of the glossy cup holders and started the car, blasting blessed air conditioning in their faces. The leather seat was hot against Adam's skin.

"Look," Noah said.

He poked his head between the two front seats as Ronan maneuvered them out of the small parking lot. Noah held his drink out in front of him. Ronan glanced at it, and Adam watched as the last of the espresso and milk melded into a smooth brown. Lines of caramel syrup streaked the sides of the plastic cup, settling at the bottom in clumps. Noah mixed it around with his straw.

"Oh," Noah said sadly, once he'd mixed the drink together completely and there was nothing left to ogle at, no pretty espresso swirls or artsy strokes of caramel. Even the whipped cream had begun to congeal on the drink's surface.

Adam glanced at Ronan. _One day_ he'd like to be able to buy a completely useless, expensive coffee for someone who wouldn't – _couldn't –_ even drink it.

At least it'd made Noah happy.

With a sigh and a last mournful look at the macchiato that was amusing no longer, Noah shoved it at Adam. He caught it, startled, it before it could drop with a mess he didn't like to imagine, and for which Ronan would likely blame _him._

"Here," Noah said. His cold fingers slid away and he faded into the back seat.

"Wait, Noah-"

Adam turned around in his seat to hand it back to Noah, but the back of the BMW was empty. Adam's eyes slid to Ronan.

He'd picked up his own monster drink again and was sipping it silently as he drove, but Adam could see it- the barest hint of a smirk on his lips.

Condensation slid down the plastic cup and dotted the front of Adam's shorts.

"You're an idiot," Adam said, and he set Noah's macchiato in the extra cup holder.

"You're an idiot if you don't drink that, Parrish," said Ronan, eyes on the road. "I paid a whole six bucks for it."

"For a dead person," said Adam.

Ronan said nothing and drove deeper into the mountains, chugging away at his drink and very possibly removing a year or two off his life with every sip. After a few minutes, he glanced back at Adam.

"I'm not letting you take that into the forest so you can trash it with your litter, so you better just drink it now," Ronan said.

"Ronan," said Adam.

" _Parrish,"_ he said, voice on the edge of a growl. "Someone's drinking it, and do you really want it to be me?"

Adam sighed aggressively, and, unbidden, Ronan's face broke out into a sudden smile.

"Your idea of fun is terrible," Adam said.

"I'm not the one who loves scoping out the free water at every restaurant."

"Fuck you."

Later, once they were parked behind Gansey's Camaro and out in the thick, humid air with the sun blistering the tops of their heads, Adam realized he didn't feel so bad. He felt cool inside, in a comfortable way, tongue sweet in his mouth.

He walked behind Ronan, eyes on the back of his shaved head and the places where his tattoo peaked out from beneath his black tank top. His skin looked smooth and tan, his form solid in the light of the sun peeking through the branches and the leaves. The two of them navigated their way through the trees, quiet.

When they reached the border of Cabeswater, Noah was waiting.

He grinned at Adam, and it seemed to lessen the harshness of the smudge on his cheek. "Wasn't it delicious?"

Ronan didn't stop walking. "How the fuck would you know? You're dead."

Noah pouted. He fell into step behind him.

"It was alright," Adam said.

Ronan turned his head, only just slightly, but Adam caught the blue of his eye for just a moment.

Adam would never admit that the combination of espresso and caramel so cool on his tongue tasted like heaven on earth. Instead, he looked down at the grassy floor beneath their feet as they trudged on, a small, quiet smile on his lips.


End file.
